The Miracle of a Working Society

in #writing6 years ago

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People always talk about how things are constantly going wrong in their lives. I'm talking about those unknown unknowns that can't be accounted for or anticipated, those things that seem to be the result of systems being extremely complicated and the entropic tendencies of the universe. Last Saturday, my car got in a minor accident on the highway because of a brake-check and I'm currently without it for a few weeks while it gets repaired. My boyfriend's computer decided to die and he had to get a new power supply right in that awkward time frame between paychecks as he's waiting for a new business venture to get funded and we have to be really careful with money.

I suppose if I believe in astrology I could blame it on mercury retrograde, as if Mercury's apparent backward motion had something to do personally trying to piss me off. But I still have my partner, my dogs, I'm on track to finish 3 novels this years, and I'm staying well-fed on red meat. So take that, Mercury. Your powers are no match for me.

But really, society requires so many moving, intricate parts that it's a miracle to me anything works at all. The amount of work, planning, infrastructure, people, and resources required for you to go to a Mcdonalds drive-through and be able to order a McChicken is mind boggingly insane. That a little annoying thing happens every week like sometimes a letter doesn't show up in the mail, or I have to do my taxes, or someone said something mean to me on Twitter is just a reminder of how good I really have it.

We're surrounded by dead planets (Except Mars has a lake, so that's pretty cool) in a solar system seemingly devoid of life and somehow evolved from lifeless matter to attain consciousness, drink coffee, and make art, and you want to complain that bad things happen to you sometimes? That seems like a fundamental processing error, but I understand how easy it is to lose perspective when all you have is subjective experience to go off of.

Yeah, I'll take the McChicken please.


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This is a refreshing perspective.

A fellow we know was complaining about having a hard time with the subway in Boston. I don't know, I guess he got turned around switching trains or something. "Ugh. It was the worst day of my life," he said.

"That's wonderful," my wife said. "You must have an amazingly easy life!"

Your wife sounds like a cool lady.

I've worked hard to try to just roll with the punches and take a deep breath when shit happens. People think complaining is a stress-reliever. It isn't. It just refocuses your attention back on what you're complaining about.

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